So, why am I anxious?
William finally took a seat. Neal knew from the file he received on the diplomat that he was in his late fifties, but the man didn't look a day over forty. His skin was as dark as midnight, which made his smile stand out and his dark eyes shimmer.
He had two sons with his first wife and later married a Russian woman who he'd met when he was stationed at the embassy in Russia. Dana was a product of that marriage. With a Nigerian father and a Russian mother, Dana had quite a bit of culture embedded in her.
William's voice drew Neal’s attention.
“As you can see, she likes to keep her old man waiting, but she is the only woman I will wait on.”
William fixed himself a second drink. He took a seat and drummed his fingers on the table next to him. He glanced up, occasionally, and smiled. Neal’s attention was taken from William's peculiar behavior when the click-clack of heels traveling down the hall signaled the daughter’s approach.
When Dana stepped through the door, Neal was thrown off guard. His gaze started at her feet and didn't stop until it rested on her face. Years of practice in keeping a poker face helped conceal his surprise. The guard, Howard, had been right; the diplomat’s daughter was stunning.
She was not only beautiful, she possessed a shock effect. She took his breath and held on to it for a few seconds before deciding to let him breathe again.
Now, he understood what the guard meant by her being pretty enough to be against the law. She had a look and an air about her that made him stare, despite years of discipline. She was poised yet relaxed, imposing yet welcoming, classy yet sexy. The woman was a walking contradiction of the most impressive features he’d ever seen.
She had a face so uncommonly beautiful, Neal lost his poker face, for a moment; something he didn't do often. Her complexion was considerably lighter than her father’s, but their features were close enough that William was unmistakably her father.
Her honey-brown skin was so perfectly hued, it seemed like an artist had no doubt mixed different shades of brown until the mixture was perfect.
She wore light but noticeable makeup that highlighted big brown eyes. Her shimmering lip gloss highlighted full, lush lips. Incredibly long lashes, he noticed at a distance, sat under perfectly arched brows.
Her navy skirt suit was so exquisitely constructed; it seemed the designer himself paid her casual visits. The skirt kissed well-defined legs that supported a perfect frame. The deep V cut of the jacket gave way to a sheer tan top beneath.
Neal's eyes refused to stop scanning her incredibly delectable presence.
Delectable? I don’t think I've used that word before.
Thankfully, her preoccupation with her father kept her from noticing him checking out her hourglass figure. He had never seen a woman so meticulously put together. She was imaginably the living definition of gorgeous.
Her sexy ankle-cut, tan boots added flavor, but should have been illegal in forty-nine states. Neal had never seen heels that high. If he had to guess, she was probably five-five, at the most; but the heels made her appear closer to six feet. He noticed that even the gunshot on her arm had healed into a cute little discolored, heart-shaped mark.
In the few seconds it had taken her to walk into the room, Neal committed her to memory. Thankfully, he hadn’t forgotten his manners and stood upon her entry.
Her presence was enough to throw him off guard, but her perfume also reached out and grasped his senses. The fragrance was as beautiful as she was and acted as a prelude to the magnificent creature he would soon face.
She gave her father her attention, looping an arm around his. Her tone remained low as she shared some funny comment that had her father laughing out loud.
Neal had already determined that he would be on constant guard with her around. He hadn’t even uttered a word to her, yet they’d had a conversation. She had taken a wrecking ball to his senses without knowing it.
She gave her father a peck on the cheek and took her time wiping her lip gloss from his face.
William waited until she was done before speaking. He took her delicately by her perfectly manicured hand and ushered her towards Neal.
“Dana, I’d like you to meet Mr. Neal Erickson. He’s going to look after you until things are safe for us again. Sweetheart, I want you to treat Mr. Erickson with the utmost respect.”
He addressed her as a father would an unruly child.
She pursed her lips and flashed him a despondent glare before exhaling a sigh.
“Dad…honestly, when is our family ever going to be safe? I have no intention of spending the rest of my days being watched and followed.”
William gave her the please-don’t-scare-this-poor-guy-away look as his head shuffled between her and Neal.
She took a deep breath before turning to face Neal. A few careful steps brought her closer as she took in his presence for the first time. At first, she seemed poised to unleash her attitude, but her posture softened as she reached out her hand.
“Mr. Erickson, nice to meet you.”
“Ms. Diallo,” Neal stated, while inclining his head.
The fact that she targeted his eyes and not the distinct scar that spanned a large portion of his right eye and traveled along his cheek spoke volumes about her. As a matter-of-fact, it seemed she hadn’t even noticed his scar.
Neal was used to people—men and women—looking at his scar and ignoring the rest of him. Dana did the opposite, which was an impressive feat, considering his scar was a hard target to miss. She presented a part of herself that he immediately respected, a part she probably wasn't even aware she possessed.
He searched her eyes for truth, or deception, and only found a hint of mischief reflecting back at him. She was dangerous. He sensed it in the firmness of her prolonged handshake.
Was she sizing him up or checking him out?
He couldn't tell. She came across as delicate, pampered, and wealthy; but everything about her was exactly what she intended him to see. Nevertheless, Neal admired the lovely woman before him. He realized, a few seconds too late, that no other person had the ability to move or sway his mind so easily. Within seconds, she had found a way in.
Once she’d let him see enough, she loosened her grip on his hand and turned to her father.
Neal put his game face on or at least tried to. He reminded himself that Dana had the ability to pull her father’s—and most likely all men's—attention.
Don't fall for it.
Before leaving, she inclined her head towards Neal once more.
“It’s nice to meeting you, Mr. Erickson.”
“You as well Ms. Diallo,” he replied, while fighting to keep his eyes from sweeping her body one last time.
Her father stopped her from walking out.
“Honey, wait. Are you going out today? I’d like Neal to escort you.”
She flashed him a smile that shined brighter than the lights hanging from the vaulted ceiling.
“Daddy, I’m going to relax in my room, so you don’t have to stress about me going anywhere and getting my head blown off my shoulders.”
She pointed one of those perfect nails in Neal’s direction and finished her speech.
“You can send Mr. Erickson to my room, if that will ease your mind. You worry too much.”
The lines beneath William’s eyes grew deeper as he shook his head.
“Honey, you know I don’t like you talking about getting killed. I’ll see you for dinner later.”
He kissed her forehead before letting her proceed.
William waited until she was a ways down the hall and made a point of expressing to Neal how much stress Dana caused him.
“See what I have to deal with, Neal. My boys are so easy. Having a daughter is delicate and stressful work. But, I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to my baby girl.”
Neal could almost touch the care in William’s voice and could only offer a nod in reply to his statement. Although he didn’t ha
ve children of his own, he was fairly certain he understood William’s concerns.
Neal was informed that he would be taking a room in the Diallo home, across the hall from Dana's. Once again, William warned, “Do not underestimate my daughter’s ability to do whatever she wants, no matter who is supposed to be protecting her.”
William paused for a brief moment, ensuring he hadn’t forgotten anything.
“My sons, Daniel and David, only spend nights here occasionally, but you'll get a chance to meet them later this evening.”
Neal listened to William intently, absorbing yet another warning from the worried father about his daughter.
For the second time that day, the question crossed his mind: Can one woman be that much trouble?
Neal chalked up his attraction to Dana as nothing more than his dry spell, wreaking havoc on his senses. A series of back-to-back assignments hadn't allowed him any downtime. As a result, he hadn’t looked at a woman, let alone touched one. A woman as beautiful and as privileged as, Dana wouldn’t give him a second look anyway; so why was he wasting time thinking about her.
He reminded himself, again, that he was there to protect her from whoever wanted to harm her.
Chapter 4
Suspicions
Later that evening, Neal met the Diallo brothers at what the family called a small dinner party. A small party for them accommodated at least twenty people who mingled about the family's oversized dining room. Food was served from three tables, each with attendants standing behind them. A pianist sat behind a grand piano, playing upbeat musical tunes.
Neal was underdressed, in his usual jeans and T-shirt, but didn’t stress about it. After having met the Diallo brothers, David and Daniel, they voiced their concerns to Neal about their sister and seemed as protective of her as their father.
Neal kept an eye on Dana, studying and observing her. She played her role well, acting innocent and docile in front of her family, but Neal wasn’t fooled. Every instinct he possessed screamed that she was anything but what she conveyed to her family. He hadn't had any alone time with her, but based on the many side notes he'd gotten from her family and the other guards, he would venture to say she was definitely putting on a good performance.
She'd changed into a creamy white, silk jumpsuit that likely cost more than he made in a month. Like her earlier attire, the suit appeared to have been sewn onto her body, hugging her curves and gliding along her tempting frame.
Neal lost sight of her in the blink of an eye. He scanned the area, searching for where she could have gone.
You're in deep thought, Mr. Erickson. Are you thinking about me?”
His head jetted around, surprised that she snuck up on him.
“Call me Neal. And yes, I was thinking about you. ”
He could tell that his straightforward answer surprised her.
“I was thinking about how good a performance you're putting on in front of your family. Thankfully, I can see a bit deeper than your surface.”
She raised one of those perfectly arched brows.
“Everyone is entitled to their opinions, Mr. Erickson. And even if you saw deeper, you couldn't handle what's under my surface.”
This time his eyebrows shot up. She had purposely ignored his request to address him as Neal, and her words were as sharp as ten thousand tacks.
“My opinions happen to be right, Ms. Diallo. And I don't think I'd have a problem handling what's under your surface.”
The surprise on her face after that statement was priceless. He turned his eyes away from hers. He had trouble deciding if they were flirting or waging war.
She closed the space between them so quickly Neal didn’t have time to hide his surprise. Another pair of those illegal heels had her eyes inches below his. Peering up at him, her eyes projected a daring glint that captured his sensible resolve.
“Save yourself the trouble, Mr. Erickson. I would devour you.”
He'd never been one to back down from a fight, or whatever it was they were having. He met her thunderous gaze with a glint just as strong. At this point they were so close to each other the warm flow of her breath stroked his face.
“Ms. Diallo, you have obviously never been disciplined. The only way you will devour me is if I let you.”
One of those lovely eyebrows raised a hair. A smile danced across her eyes but never made it to her lips.
“We'll see,” were the last words she declared before giving him back his personal space.
She turned towards the party, her side view not hiding her territorial stance.
Neal took a deep breath.
What in the hell just happened?
He'd never had a word-sparring contest with anyone like that before. The fact that this was their first actual conversation didn’t stop them from bantering back and forth like they were already acquainted. She shot him one last daring glance before walking away.
Neal forced himself, once again, to concentrate on the reason he was there—to protect her. She was definitely putting on a performance, but what she didn't know was that he could put on a performance as well. He had no doubt they would clash like two titans. The craziest thing about it was he believed he would enjoy it.
****
The creases of a devious smile bent the corners of her painted red lips. Dana was up to no good and would have thought less of herself if she didn’t try to get one over on her new babysitter. Last night, he'd surprised her. She wasn't used to anyone calling her out, or taking a stance against her.
Nevertheless, it seemed ditching her new sitter would be easier than she thought. Unlike her last three or four protectors, Neal seemed more relaxed. He didn't watch her like a hawk, nor did he seem the least bit impressed with her, and it vexed her a little. The way she looked had gotten her through many situations and so had her speed.
Smiling, she reflected on her brief interactions with Neal. He was the best looking man she'd seen in jeans and a fitted T-shirt in a long time. He was toned in all the right places and possessed a pair of mesmerizing blue-green eyes that captured her attention at the slightest glance. His dirty blond hair was complemented by honey-hued skin and well-defined, kissable lips.
Thinking of his lips, she found herself wanting to trace the lines of them. His height was also a contender for her attention, standing taller than a well-designed skyscraper. A first for her, she found herself immediately attracted to him.
Don’t go there, Dana, she reminded herself.
Mr. Erickson might fool her father, but she knew better. He had secrets, lots of them, from what she could tell. She shook off thoughts of her hot new babysitter and returned to her devious task at hand.
At six in the morning, Neal was likely in bed, and she was making a clean getaway by leaving an hour earlier than she'd informed him.
She hummed the tune to Jeopardy as the garage door rose. Navigating her car down the driveway, she sat impatiently as the gate slink open at a lingering pace. Two of the guards waved, unable to see inside her Mercedes due to its dark tint.
None of the guards stopped her to ensure Neal was with her, likely assuming he automatically would be. She turned onto the road that would lead her to the little slice of privacy she sought. Watching the gate closing in her rearview mirror put a smile on her face.
“Yes. I’m free,” she giggled to herself.
“What are you free of, Ms. Diallo?”
Neal's voice leapt across her seat and struck her in the back of the head before landing in her ears.
Dana jerked the steering wheel, nearly sending the car into one of those two-hundred-year-old trees that lined the isolated street. Their house was miles away from the next property, nestled among a tree-lined, woodland area.
Neal scared the hell out of her. He sat in her backseat, eyeing her in the rearview mirror.
Dana was at a loss for words, for a moment, as she mentally picked her heart up from the front seat.
“What? How in the world did you get back there? Y
ou…you.”
He seemed to like that he'd scared her half to death. Dana was fairly certain he hadn’t been in the vehicle.
Or had he been?
His eyes reflected a serious glare in the mirror.
“Ms. Diallo, my job is to protect you, not lie in bed asleep while you sneak away. I had a sneaking suspicion you would try something.”
She cleared her throat.
“Call me Dana. And yes, I thought you were asleep. All I'd like every once in a while is some alone time. You have no idea how frustrating it is to be under the watchful eye of someone every waking moment of every day.”
He sat up in his seat, giving her a clear view of his face in the mirror.
“Ms. Diallo, I understand your situation better than you might think; but I wouldn't be here if you didn’t have a legitimate threat on your life. You may not like it; but until we can either eliminate—or clear—the threat, you're stuck with me.”
“Mr. Erickson, what makes you think you're going to last that long?”
Even in the mirror, she noted a hint of mischief, lingering behind his eyes.
“Call me Neal. And you might be surprised at how crafty, and persistent, I can be. What I lack in looks, I make up for in charisma and cleverness.”
He wasn't a pushover, that’s for sure. The fact that she liked that about him had her twisting her lips to banish a telling smile. She'd never tell him so, but he was right. He wore those C's—charisma and cleverness—with confidence. And despite how he viewed himself, she thought he was very good-looking.
The fact that she got close enough to see that you could classify his eyes as either green or blue spoke volumes about her attraction to him. Then her eyes lingered at his soft-looking, kissable lips that seemed to hold as many secrets as those eyes of his. She'd scanned his tall stature, thoroughly admiring the definition of his strong frame.
Most men with facial scars often wore their hair longer, but not him. He wasn't afraid to let everyone see every part of him. He didn’t seem to care if people accepted him or not. Mr. Neal Erickson was nothing like the other guards. He made her think about him after the briefest introduction. His scanning eyes in the rearview mirror pulled her out of her thoughts.
Sevyn: Adult Paranormal Romance (BWWM Romance) (Supernatural Thriller) (The Smoke & Fire Series Book 4) Page 3